


Jealousy

by WritingsOfAHobbit



Series: Thranduil/Reader Stories [10]
Category: The Hobbit - All Media Types
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-03-05
Updated: 2015-03-05
Packaged: 2018-03-16 09:32:41
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,980
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3483191
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/WritingsOfAHobbit/pseuds/WritingsOfAHobbit
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Written for the prompt: Could you write a Thranduil x human reader where he meets her ex & gets jealous/possessive of her with angst & smut At the end? ;)</p>
            </blockquote>





	Jealousy

A commoner romantically involved with nobility was rare. A human romantically involved with an elf was even rarer. So a human commoner romantically involved with elvish royalty was unheard of. Still here you were, walking arm in arm with a king through the markets of Dale.

Several people you passed gave you strange looks, but most were used to it. Or, at the very least, most people were smart enough to only comment in the privacy of their own homes.

Perusing the markets has always been a hobby of yours, though it is only recently that you've been able to afford even the cheapest thing. Bard has demolished taxes altogether,  promising to only start implementing them once the town is back on its feet,  and even then they will be cheap and affordable. With what little money you had been able to make from moving rubble from Erebor, you had been able to buy yourself a new dress. It wasn't impressive, and it wasn't even one you liked, but it is was better and warmer than the one you had worn previously. The one you _had_ wanted to buy was once far too expensive.

However being romantically involved with Thranduil, Elven King of Mirkwood, did have some financial advantages.  He brought everything and anything you looked twice at, from clothes to books and from weapons to spices. He claimed that he did it in order to further the economy, but you're sure he did it in order to keep your favour. Not that he could ever lose it.

Most of what he brought for you was donated to those who were still struggling, but some of it you kept. For example, you fully intended to keep the thick book on the history of Dale that he had just brought from the new owner of the old archives.  

"I'm sure I could tell it all to you without the need of pages in a book." Thranduil informed you as he handed over the coin.

"I can't have you retell the history in the middle of the night now, can I?" You laughed, attempting to take the book from the table.  However Thranduil steered you away, leaving it for one of his unseen protectors to pick up.

Though you could not see any other elves in the market, you knew they were there. Thranduil would never be allowed to just wander around without some form of protection, even if he was perfectly capable of looking after himself.

The two of you continue to wander from stall to stall, travelling in mostly silence. You kept one arm linked through his, and a hand gently on his forearm. He kept one arm linked through yours, and a hand protectively over yours. Your head rested on his shoulder and his head remained high, looking for trouble or something which might devolve into a dangerous situation. It was mostly peaceful, but peace never seems to last.

"Y/N!" Someone calls your name and a moment later a hand which certainly does _not_ belong to Thranduil comes to rest on your arm. You freeze and feel Thranduil's muscles tense under you. To touch you without permission is seen as a grossly rude action in elvish culture. To keep this from turning ugly, you must act carefully and quickly.

You turn to the person who had just violated Elven etiquette, and want nothing more than to allow Thranduil to put him in his place. “Wade.” You greeted through a very forced smile.

Wade Kinnel is the last person you ever want to come face to face with again. Not too long ago he was to be your husband, but a problem with the lacing of his trousers had seen you walk out the door and never look back. Now the mediocre fisherman was stood in front of you with a hand on your arms and a greasy smile on his face. He was quite possible _worse_ than Alfrid.  

“I didn’t expect to see you here.” You pointedly shake his hand off.

“Got m’self a new line of work.” Wade’s hand returns to your arm and you can almost feel the blood boil under Thranduil’s skin.

“How wonderful for you.”

Most normal people would take note of your tone of voice and turn tail and run. Wade was not most normal people. “Yeah, I’m working for-“

“Wade, we really must be going.” You step back into Thranduil, pushing him backwards. “We have important things to be doing.”

“Hey! I’m still-“

The rest of Wade’s painfully annoying objection is cut off when Thranduil throws his arm around your shoulder, the many layers of his sleeves covering your ears. Thranduil walks quickly through the town, practically pulling you after him. It’s a struggle to keep up with him without running or tripping on his robes, which seem to be completely surrounding you.

“Thranduil? Thranduil, slow down!

Thranduil pays you no heed, rushing you back to your new dwellings. Not once does he take a wrong turn and you’re left to marvel at the memory of elves. You’ve leaved here for nigh six months and you _still_ get lost on your way home.

You can’t get a word out of Thranduil until both the front door and the living room door are firmly shut between you and the world. “Who is Wade?” Thranduil demands, fury and confusion mixing in his pale eyes. “How do you know him?”

“It really doesn’t matter.” You try to shrug the subject off, but Thranduil won’t let you.

“You’re lying to me.”

You bite your lip. You have neglected to tell Thranduil about your past romances. You know that whatever emotions you may feel, he will feel them at least five times stronger. So when he tells you that he loves you, it is not the same love that you feel. It is a stronger, more possessive, more affectionate, needier love.  Elves don’t throw their loves around like humans do. He loved one elf and married her, waiting more than a thousand years to ever love again. How would he see the affections that you once held for Wade? How would he see the year between Wade and him?

“Y/N…” Thranduil steps towards you and suddenly the air becomes very heavy. His eyes are slowly turning cold and his voice holds a warning tone.

“I… was once supposed to… once _accepted_ his offer of….his idea… of… marriage.”

You chew your lip nervously as a heavy silence falls over the two of you.

“Marriage?” Thranduil says the word carefully, as though it is a physical object made out of the thinnest of glass.

“Yes. It was very, _very_ short lived. A total of three months from beginning to end.” It’s half the length of time that the two of you have been together, but you can tell that to him it is still too long.

“Were you _ever_ going to tell me?” Thranduil is starting to get angry so you gingerly lay a hand on his arm in attempt to calm him.

“He’s not important. He never has been.”

“You were to _marry him_!” Thranduil objects. “How can you tell me that he was never important to you?”

“I never loved him the way that I love you!” you insist, seizing his hands in yours. “His smile set me on edge, his voice made me cringe, and his touch made me sick! I knew from the moment I met him that he was wrong for me, but what was I to do? I was starving and homeless. Thranduil, it was a life with him or no life at all.”

Thranduil’s anger is still growing stronger, but something in the way he stands tells you that it’s not directed at you and longer. “His _touch_?” Thranduil snarls. “He _touched_ you? In a way to make you _sick_?”

“Not like that! Not like the way that you touch me, Thranduil. You are the _first_ being to _ever_ touch me like that, and you will be the _only_ one.”

Thranduil is silent for a moment, closing his eyes as he controls his breathing. When he looks at you again, the anger is almost completely gone. “Why did you break off the engagement?”

You could like to him, you suppose, but he would see right through you. “He had a problem with the lacing on his trousers.” You try to shrug it off and move on. No such luck.

“The lacings on his…..” it takes a moment for Thranduil to understand, and when he does he is _livid_. He turns on his heel and marches towards the door. If there is one thing more insulting to elves than unwelcomed touch, it is adultery.

“Thranduil, _no_! He’s not worth it!” you grab the elf’s arm, pulling him back to you.

Thranduil turns and grabs your waist, lifting you up onto his hips and stepping forwards until your back collides with the wall.

You are suddenly taller than him, and he has to tilt his head back to look at you. “Tell me.” He begs. “Tell me the truth.”

“I love you.” You smile, taking his face in your hands. “It’s only ever been you, and it will only ever be you. There will never be another that I love and cherish as much as you.”

Thranduil groans, lowering you a little so that he can press his lips firmly against yours. He nips at your lower lip and you mouth, mouth opening for him.

You wriggle a little in his grip, pressing your weight between his hips. “Y/N…” he warns, arms tightening around your waist. You grin into the kiss, pressing down harder. “We are not doing this here.” He growls, breaking the kiss.

“Why not?” you pout. “This wall is no different to the last wall, and you certainly had no complaints there.”

“We were at a celebration!” Thranduil protests. “There wasn’t _time_ for anything else!”

“There’s time now?” You raise your eyebrow. “The longer you take, the more chance there is of Wa-”

Thranduil’s mouth is suddenly back on yours, one of his hands gripping your thigh and bunching up your skirt. His cool hand quickly make contact with your warm thigh and is soon working its way higher.

This might not be the most romantic time that the two of you have ‘laid’ together, but it’s what’s needed right now for Thranduil to assure himself that you’re his and no one else’s. Plus this height advantage just makes everything seem so much better, and when Thranduil slips inside you he seems to reach much farther.

Thranduil takes your hips and helps you move as you wrap your legs around his waist, drawing him close and pushing him farther inside.

The house is completely silent, except for the sound of skin on skin, an occasional kiss, and the murmur of ‘Thranduil’ and ‘Y/N’. Thranduil’s head comes to rest on your collar bone as his movements become more erratic.

Thranduil has one rule when it comes to the bedroom (or in this case, living room); you finish first. You can feel him throbbing and hear the hitch in his breathing and know that he is close. Not wanting to disappoint him or deny yourself release you release a hand from his hair, trailing it down to the join of your legs.

You find your clit and press firmly against it, making short circles as you bounce on him.

Pleasure washes over you quickly, and you head falls back against the wall as your body tingles from head to toe. Thranduil finishes shortly after you, his grip tightening momentarily until it is almost painful.

The two of you stay as you are for a moment before Thranduil turns his head to look up at you. “Just so you know, that scum’s name is off-limits from now on. Agreed?”

“Agreed.”

 


End file.
